The Breach
by Enarex
Summary: The Autobots and Decepticons call an uneasy truce to pursue an unknown threat to the REAL world. Meanwhile, four Transformers fans from various backgrounds give up their human lives to become Transformers and face this threat. Can they survive their new lives AND help save two universes? Rated M for language, dark themes, some violence and interfacing. Details before each chapter.
1. The Breach

**Disclaimer: All original characters are mine. Transformers belongs to Hasbro, etc.**

**This first chapter is pretty tame; may have some coarse language (but I don't remember). Later chapters may be worse.**

Lacey Andrews flopped down on her bed with a satisfied sigh. She'd been preparing for this concert for months, and that evening, everything had come together. She'd sung her heart out, and the guitarists hadn't missed a single note. She'd tell her internet friends all about it in the morning, but for now, she'd get some much-needed rest.

* * *

David Sumter kicked off his boots and sat down on the ragged, gray couch. Blood trickled down his right arm as he fumbled with the bandages.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered, trying to keep pressure on the shallow cuts where the kid's knife had grazed his shoulder. As he tightened the bandage, something on the coffee table caught his eye—the rent bill.

* * *

"See you tomorrow!"

Richard Coulson nodded to his coworker and slammed the door to his blue Mercedes Benz. He made a pretense of adjusting his rear view mirror until everyone had left the parking lot…and drove around the side of his office building, parking next to a 1998 Dodge Neon. After double checking to make sure no one was around, he slipped out of his Mercedes and into the Neon.

Pulling off his tie and jacket, he reached down in front of the passenger seat. His clothing and makeup was right where he'd left it. It was almost 7:00—time for Richard Coulson to take a rest, and Princess Candy to make her appearance at the Wednesday night drag show over at the Manhole.

_Thump._

Richard froze, his pants halfway off. He glanced out the windows, but nobody was there. It was probably just the garbage truck across the street…wait, didn't that come on Thursdays?

* * *

The door clicked loudly as Chris McCammon locked it behind her. As she slid down to the floor, she could hear everything—every car rushing past her apartment, every stomp and clatter from her neighbors upstairs—she closed her eyes, trying to relieve the pounding in her head.

When the ache began to subside, Chris stood and staggered over to her computer. Distractions generally helped, she remembered as she logged into her Netflix account, and what better distraction was there than one of her favorite shows? Sure, sometimes what few friends she had got annoyed by her constant ramblings about it, but it was hard _not_ to talk about Transformers.

Chris clicked on her favorite episode of Transformers: Prime—Season 1, Episode 16, Operation: Breakdown (which was especially awesome because it was about Breakdown).

Much to her frustration, it couldn't seem to load. That thumping was getting louder, too—did the people upstairs have to be so loud? With a final _CRRRUNCH_ the power flickered off, and a light appeared to emanate from the ceiling.

"Greetings, human. We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron, a world with which you appear to be familiar. We need your help."

* * *

"I…yeah…_what?_" Lacey gazed up at—it couldn't be—

For one thing, there was no _way_ that Optimus Prime_ and_ Megatron _and_ Starscream would be standing together without fighting, as though they were _allies!_ More importantly, this was impossible…a dream? No, no, if it were a dream this would seem normal. Lacey stared cautiously at Optimus's outstretched hand.

"Please do not be alarmed. We have traveled to your world in pursuit of an unknown danger. Humans such as you may be the key to our destroying this threat before it claims both our worlds."

* * *

"I'm sorry, _what?_" David stared up at the most recent incarnation of his childhood idol. Evidently, he'd lost more blood than he'd thought.

"Optimus, the breach is closing!" David could hear Ratchet's warning from somewhere beyond the strange portal.

"I understand that this must be…concerning for you. We are asking you to risk your life for the fate of your universe and our own. If you do not wish to undertake this dangerous mission, we will leave you, and this will seem like nothing more than a dream. But you must make your decision quickly."

* * *

Richard sat awkwardly in the seat, keenly aware that he was being stared at by half the transformers…while in his underwear. Either he'd fallen into some bizarre porno or this was a nightmare, and any minute now his father was going to walk in, discover his secret, and disown him.

But he'd play along for now. What other choice was there? After all, if the world really _was_ in danger, wasn't it his duty to do everything he could to help save it?

"I…I'll come with you."

Optimus smiled, held out his hand, and allowed Richard to climb onto it. He glanced down towards his clothes one last time, and the portal shut behind him.

* * *

Chris found herself in an enormous metal room with about thirty other humans—and _them_. Optimus, Megatron, Starscream, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Soundwave…it was one thing to see them on television, but in person, they were breathtaking. They really _were_ huge, intimidating, wondrous. Glancing around the room, Chris realized she wasn't the only one staring.

After bringing in the last human, Optimus turned to face the group. "You have been gathered here because our worlds face a powerful danger. We know little about this threat at the moment, and we need all the help we can get. I am certain that each of you can help in your own way."

Megatron and Starscream exchanged glances, and Chris heard—and felt—Cybertronian footsteps from elsewhere in the strange complex. Ratchet was pushing buttons on some unidentifiable machine and looked up, nodding to Optimus.

"Ratchet, Knockout, and Shockwave have designed an experimental procedure that can transfer natives of your world into Cybertronian bodies. The process is irreversible, but those of you who volunteer will be invaluable to our efforts, allowing us to use Cybertronian technology and weaponry on your planet until we can bring in more experienced warriors. Each of you has one hour to make your—"

"I'll do it." A middle-aged man with a bloody bandage wrapped around his right shoulder stepped forward.

* * *

Lacey gawked at the man who'd so willingly offered himself. Sure, the world was in danger, and sure, Cybertronian bodies were superior in a lot of ways, but to give up a human body, a human life, forever? Optimus seemed to share her surprise.

"Are you sure you do not need more time to think this through?" Optimus asked.

The man shook his head. "I want to do something good for once in my life. I'll back out if I wait too long."

"Very well. Are there any other volunteers?"

"I…I volunteer." A sheepish-looking man wearing nothing but his briefs raised a hand, keeping the other down in what looked like a sad attempt to hide his bulge.

* * *

David averted his eyes as the man in his underwear stepped forward. The fate of the world did _not_ need to rest in the hand of an old drug dealer and this scrawny gentleman who evidently couldn't be bothered to put on pants. Then again, maybe the Cybertronians had found him at a bad time.

The transformers looked at the group expectantly, but nobody spoke up. A few people shifted uncomfortably under Prime's gaze. Finally, a tomboyish looking woman near the back of the group spoke up.

"I just have…a question." She winced and rubbed her head before continuing. "If we did this, got Cybertronian bodies, would we be able to…masturbate?"

"I'm…not sure I understand the question."

The woman shrugged. "You know…interfacing, with yourself? Can you guys do that?"

* * *

Richard could feel the tension rise in the room. Optimus froze for a second, and Megatron and Starscream averted their gaze. Ratchet became engrossed in the machine he'd been working with. After a moment's hesitation, Optimus spoke.

"Human and Cybertronian physiology are very…different from one another. You will be losing quite a bit if you choose to make this transition, but there is also much to gain. Only time will tell if you find your new body…satisfactory."

The man next to Richard grinned and shook his head. "Some people know how to ask the important questions, don't they?" Richard laughed, but as they made eye contact the man averted his gaze again, and Richard was aware of the breeze on his bare legs.

It wasn't much of an answer, Chris thought, but it was probably the best she'd get out of the Autobot leader for now. Besides, there were more important things at stake than her alone time.

The procedure sounded great on paper. Who _wouldn't_ want to trade in a flimsy human body to join the characters she'd loved and obsessed over for years? But there was so much to give up—not just a familiar human body, but a life, friends, and family.

But without a world, there'd _be_ no life, friends, and family. It was better to fight with everything she had and die than to passively wait for the world to end…right? There was no longer any doubt in Chris's mind that this was real—the question was, could she do it? She _knew_ it was the right thing. Sure, she could probably help as a normal human…but she could do so much more as a Cybertronian, and there were only two volunteers.

That bandaged man was right: waiting too long would make it easy to back out. Chris stepped forward—

* * *

"I'll do it," Lacey blurted out. She could hardly believe what she was saying, but there she was, volunteering to give up her old body for a cause she knew nothing about.

"I…me, too." The girl who'd asked about masturbation earlier was standing beside the two men. Lacey took a deep breath and joined them. And again, there was silence.

"Those of you who have not yet made your decision have half an hour before we can no longer perform the procedure. Those of you who wish to remain human may join Agent Fowler." He gestured towards an alcove with human-sized furnishings.

Lacey glanced back at the thirty-something humans who remained—they were _all_ headed for the alcove! Part of her wanted to ask if they were _sure_ they wanted to stay human forever, but the more she thought of it, the more something told her maybe _she_ was the one who should change her mind. But it was too late now; she had to go through with this.

Optimus gazed down at the four volunteers. "Very well. Follow Ratchet to the lab and you can get started on the procedure."

* * *

Running to keep up with Ratchet was difficult for David with his bad knee, but they got to the lab fairly quickly. Optimus, Soundwave, and Megatron followed, waiting near the massive doorway.

Inside the lab, there were two tables—one small, fit for a human, and one large enough for Megatron to lie on it. June Darby stood next to the smaller table, while Knockout and Shockwave stood beside the larger table, handling some odd tubes that were connected to another enormous machine. The whole contraption was disconcerting, but David supposed it was safe enough.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Knockout grinned down at the volunteers. "Any new Decepticons?"

Shockwave ignored Knockout and turned to Ratchet, barely glancing at the humans. "Which recruit will we transition first?"

Ratchet looked down at the humans, his optics stopping to rest on David. "I suppose that's up to them. What about you? You volunteered first; it seems only fitting that you'd be the first to become one of us."

The reality was starting to sink in. Maybe he _shouldn't_ have volunteered—no, he had to do this. If he backed out, the others might back out too. Besides, he had to do something good with his life.

"Where do you want me?"

June motioned towards the smaller lab table. "Lie down here, and hold still while I hook you up…"

While June strapped David down and fiddled with the tubing, Ratchet headed towards the computer and entered in some codes. "This machine will take information from your genetic code and create a Cybertronian body. Your strengths in this new body should be based on the strengths you already have, but I am not certain how far this will go. Once your consciousness is transferred to your new body, the computer will generate information based on the life you would have led had you been native to Cybertron—your name, your inherent strengths, and whether you would have been an Autobot…" Ratchet paused and locked eyes with Megatron. "…or a Decepticon."

"But you don't _have_ to stay with the faction the computer chooses for you. You can be an Autobot no matter what the computer says." Smokescreen's voice came from—somewhere. David couldn't turn his head to look with all the wires June had stuck to him.

"Are you ready?" Ratchet asked.

_No, I'm not ready, and I never will be!_ His body—his _human_ body! Would that cut on his arm never heal? What about all the scars he'd gotten over the years? His bad knee, his double jointed fingers? Could he at _least_ take one last bathroom break before he lost his human life forever?

"Ready." David took a deep breath—

He was _suffocating!_ There was no air—nothing—David gasped for breath, but nothing was coming out—he tried to sit up, but something hard held him down. Metal hands were poking and prodding at him—_metal hands_.

"C-can't…breathe…" He flailed and tried to sit up again, but he couldn't…

"Illogical. Cybertronians have no need for oxygen."

It was done. It had worked! The lack of breathing would be hard to get used to—after all, he'd been doing it nonstop for forty years. But he _was_ alive, and he was…

"Let's see here…Streetracer. You're an Autobot."


	2. The Transformation

**This chapter's pretty tame too, probably even more than the first one.**

* * *

Knockout removed the restraints and the new Autobot—Streetracer—sat up. From where Richard was standing, he could see dark red paint streaked with silver accents. Optimus stepped over to the robot and extended a hand.

"Welcome to the Autobots, Streetracer."

"I…thanks."

Optimus pulled Streetracer to his feet. The new Autobot looked a bit like Smokescreen in body type, but more angular and a bit larger. His face shape was similar to that of Ultra Magnus, but his helm was much simpler. Streetracer turned to regard the lifeless human body on the table with his solid blue-green optics.

"That was…that…" He started to reach toward it, but stopped. Everyone was staring at him, Richard noticed—the Cybertronians in particular seemed to be a little _too_ interested in his body.

Streetracer stumbled and caught himself on the lab table. "Sorry. Walking…it's so different now…my _voice_ is different."

Optimus nodded. "In time, you will get used to your new body. For now, Smokescreen will show you to the Autobot quarters. I'm sure the others will be eager to meet you."

"On it, boss!" Smokescreen chirped. Streetracer carefully stepped towards Smokescreen, who led him out of the room.

"We are ready for the next patient." Shockwave was already removing Streetracer's old body. Optimus and Ratchet turned their attention back to the humans.

"I guess I should go next," Richard said. He could feel the heat rising in his throat as he stepped forward. Princess Candy was never going to entertain her fans again.

He didn't know why, but something took hold of him. Right there, in his underwear, in front of all those Cybertronians, Richard strutted over to the table with his best catwalk, as though he were in full drag at one of the midnight shows back at the Manhole. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Knockout grin as he turned to the two girls waiting for their turn, blew them each a kiss, and lay down on the table.

"I don't know why I did that," he muttered to Nurse Darby as she hooked him up to the machine.

"It's okay. I'd be nervous too if I were about to go through with this."

The reality of the situation began to sink in again. He was losing more than just a body—he was losing a life. Sure, it had been a double life full of secrets and fear, but it was still _his_ life, and nobody could take that away from him—until now.

"Ready?" Ratchet asked from over by the computer.

"I—ready," he croaked.

He felt the machine power up, and—and—

He couldn't breathe. After a few moments of trying to gasp for breath, he remembered that he didn't _need_ to breathe anymore—but that wasn't much help. He still _wanted_ to breathe, and twenty-nine years of habit wouldn't be easy to break. Richard tried not to flail around too much like the other man had, but something inside him was screaming.

As Knockout and Shockwave checked his vitals, Ratchet read the information off the computer screen.

"Twoface, Autobot. Ah, look at that…you're a triple changer."

* * *

Ordinarily, Lacey might have taken offense to a grown man blowing her a kiss in his underwear, but these circumstances were anything but ordinary. As Optimus greeted the triple changer, Lacey was struck by the contrast of his deep blue paint and his neon purple accents. Twoface was about the size of Bumblebee, but more slender, and his optics were solid blue. His face shape was reminiscent of Knockout's, but not quite as pointed.

For some reason, everyone seemed to be _staring_ at him. They'd done that with Streetracer as well, so Lacey supposed it was just their curiosity, but something told her there was something else involved.

"That was…interesting," Twoface said, glancing at his old body and quickly looking away. When he spoke, she realized his _voice_ was different too. Lacey found herself hoping that it wouldn't affect her singing; she'd known she'd be giving up a lot, but she'd never considered that.

As Smokescreen returned to lead Twoface back to the Autobots, Shockwave removed his old human body from the table. Lacey didn't even want to think about what he might be doing with them later on.

The Cybertronians stood ready for the next patient. _I guess it's my turn,_ Lacey thought as she stepped up to the table. She ran a hand through her hair one last time and lay down on the table. As June covered her in wires and tubes, Lacey couldn't help but marvel at the idea that this body—_her_ body—was going to die in a few moments, but she was going to live on for—surely she wouldn't have a Cybertronian lifespan, would she?

As she was pondering this, the machine started up. She gasped—they hadn't asked her if she was _ready_ yet! She reflexively tried to jerk out of position, but she couldn't move—

And she couldn't breathe. She'd known this would happen, but she couldn't stop trying. Memories rushed back: clawing at the hands around her throat, gasping for air, trying desperately to get away—

"Watch the finish!"

Knockout's shout jolted her back to reality. She tried to calm herself, to stop the flailing, but still something inside her was screaming for breath.

"I—I can't breathe." Something about her voice was different. "M-my voice. I have…I have two voices." One was similar to the voice she'd had as a human, while the other was deeper—an alto, perhaps. They naturally harmonized together as she spoke. It would have been pleasing if she hadn't been trying with all her might _not_ to gasp for breath.

"Easy there." Ratchet's voice was steady, gentle. "Your name is Harmony. You're an Autobot."

* * *

Harmony was small, Chris thought as she watched her step shakily away from the table. The tangerine orange and pink Autobot had a small suggestion of breasts—what purpose those served, Chris could only guess.

When Arcee returned to escort Harmony to the Autobot quarters—evidently Smokescreen had gotten distracted by the other new arrivals—Chris got a better look at the new Autobot. She was a bit taller and bulkier than Arcee, but still small. Her face was a little more rounded than Arcee's, and her optics were…beautiful. Looking again, Chris figured out what it was—they were just like Knockout's, but blue.

As Chris stepped up to the table, she noticed that the Decepticons kept exchanging glances. Not for the first time, she wished she'd had a better understanding of body language, but her Asperger's Syndrome made that difficult. She lay down on the table and let June plug her in to the machine, wondering if she'd still have it when she became a robot. And what about her senses—would they be as difficult to process in her new body as they were in this one? Did Cybertronians even _have_ the same senses?

As the machine powered on, Chris felt a sickening sensation reminiscent of how she felt at the beginning of a rollercoaster ride, when she was starting to regret getting on but it was already climbing the first hill. She'd never been very attached to her physical body, but she had a _life_. How could she possibly go back to her friends and family as an enormous metal alien?

She couldn't breathe.

Chris struggled, trying to fight the urge to breathe with lungs she no longer had, but every instinct in her was saying she _needed_ air. As she choked, she realized she could hear everything even louder than before—the humming of the room, the shifting of the bodies around her, the click of metal fingers against tools and computers. It was _bright_, too—even brighter than she was used to. It was too much—everything was so _loud_—she pulled her knees to her chest, scrunched her optics closed, and held her hands over where her ears should have been—

And something TOUCHED her on the arm, sending millions of streaks of sensation through her body. Her senses were strong, all right—they were even worse than they'd been in her human body! The thing touched her again, and she opened her eyes to realize that Knockout was trying to check her vitals. Reluctantly, she held out her arm.

"Is everything all right over there?" Ratchet asked.

"I'm…fine. Sensory overload. It…happens." Chris realized to her surprise that her voice was _nothing_ like it had been when she was human. "I have…a man's voice?"

"Cybertronian anatomy is not as well-defined as your human concept of 'sex' and 'gender,'" Ratched said. "Let's see…Roadkill. You're a…you're a Decepticon."


	3. Adjustments

**This chapter is a little worse than the first two, but still not too bad. It has a bit of coarse language and hints at some adult themes.**

* * *

Everyone in the room was staring at Chris—no, Roadkill. She…he?...shifted uneasily and stepped off the medical table. Optimus was the first to speak.

"If you do not wish to be a Decepticon, you are always welcome to join the Autobots."

As a fan, Chris had always preferred the Decepticons, but there was no denying that life among them would be harsh and unforgiving. And what if they ordered Roadkill to do terrible things? They certainly wouldn't trust him after his previous life as a human.

Then again, refusing to remain with the Decepticons could be taken as an insult, and he certainly didn't want to insult the more aggressive of the two factions, even though they appeared to have formed some sort of truce.

In the end, it was the intensity of Megatron's glare that made up Roadkill's mind. "No, it's fine. I'll just…do what the machine says."

"Indeed." Megatron smiled slightly, revealing his menacing teeth. Something about that smile had always disturbed Roadkill. "Knockout, show our new recruit to the Decepticon base."

"Yes, my liege." Knockout stepped out from behind the lab table, and Roadkill realized that Knockout was slightly shorter than he was.

From what he could see of his own paintjob, he was jet black with bright green accents. He didn't appear to have any sign of breasts either; whatever Ratchet said, he appeared to be male now. That didn't bother Roadkill too much, but it didn't make a lot of _sense_ either.

Knockout led him out of the lab and down a few corridors. In one, they passed the human recruits who were evidently still being briefed by Fowler. In another, Starscream sulked against the wall, glaring at them as they passed. Finally, Knockout stopped in front of a door and entered a code into the keypad.

"Breakdown, come look at this!" Knockout shouted as the door opened.

"Be right there, Doc!"

Roadkill shook his head in disbelief. It _was_ Breakdown's voice, but how was that possible? The bulky blue Decepticon made his way into the room and grinned at Roadkill. He had _both_ his eyes.

"He has your optics," Knockout observed.

"I—what—" It took Roadkill a moment to realize Knockout was talking about _him_.

Breakdown looked up and down Roadkill's body. "Not a bad model, either."

"Apparently former humans make excellent Cybertronians." Knockout leaned against a wall and crossed his arms. "It was the same with the Autobots."

Roadkill couldn't hold it in any longer. "I…no offense, but…how is Breakdown alive?"

Knockout and Breakdown fell silent and stared at Roadkill. After a lengthy pause, Breakdown spoke. "It's…temporary. I'm here as long as I'm needed to fight this threat."

Roadkill looked from Knockout to Breakdown. "So…is that why Knockout's back with the—"

"Breakdown, why don't you go show Roadkill around the base?" Knockout's tone was harsh, and Roadkill wasn't exactly sure what he'd done, but he didn't want to push him.

"Sure thing. Come on, Roadkill." Breakdown headed towards another corridor, gesturing for Roadkill to follow.

* * *

The next few solar cycles passed in a blur for Streetracer. The days were filled with practicing the basics of being Cybertronian: refueling with energon, choosing vehicle modes, transformation, using weapons that were literally extensions of their own arms. At night, power downs were difficult; Harmony kept waking up screaming and gasping for breaths she could no longer take.

In truth, things were not as difficult for Streetracer as they could have been; his life as a human hadn't held much value to him or anyone else, it seemed. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what the others had given up.

In his rare pockets of free time, Streetracer usually headed to one of the racing tracks to practice driving in his new vehicle mode: a sleek, swift beast of a car not unlike Wheeljack's. Harmony had chosen a large motorcycle, and Roadkill had settled on a sleek but powerful car—not the fastest, but maneuverable. Twoface's transformation was a bit more complicated; it seemed the triple changer could also change his appearance in robot mode to an extent. As soon as he learned to control his transformation in robot mode, Ratchet said, he'd be allowed to choose his vehicle modes.

Once, when Streetracer was returning from the track one evening, he was interrupted by a blood curdling scream. He froze, looking everywhere to determine the source of the screaming—

"Down here, genius!"

The call belonged to a woman with frizzy brown hair who stood mere feet from where Streetracer had almost stepped.

"I…" It took a few moments for the situation to register in Streetracer's mind. "I…_oh_…I'm so sorry! Are you hurt? I should've been looking where I was going…gods, I'm sorry!"

The woman laughed nervously. "It's—it's fine. I'm not dead yet." She laughed again, this time sounding borderline psychotic. "I'm just…you damn near gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry. I'm just not used to…I really should've been more careful." Streetracer carefully bent down to get a closer look at the girl. Her eyes were hazel, her skin tanned. She couldn't have been any older than her early thirties.

She peered up at him. "You're one of the new ones, aren't you? What's your name?"

"Streetracer, I guess." He laughed quietly. "It _was_ David. You?"

"Jessie." She pushed a strand of curly hair out of her face. "Do you miss it?"

Streetracer carefully sat on the floor, making absolutely sure he wasn't squishing anybody this time. "My old life? Not really. Being human had its advantages, though. It's still hard to get the hang of not breathing."

Jessie smiled sadly. "I thought about it, you know? I didn't want to leave my friends and family behind. Sometimes I feel like I should've gone through with that…transformation thing…but it's too late now. Fowler says after a certain amount of time in this…this _place_, we can't change. I don't think he really understands why, though."

Streetracer chuckled. "No, he wouldn't. To be fair, I don't really understand it either. Ratchet just said it was 'complicated.' They won't even tell us what we're supposed to be fighting against."

Jessie shifted uneasily. "They won't tell us, either, but it's got to be something big. They've been training us to use scaled down versions of Cybertronian technology—weapons, scanners, that kind of thing. They're talking about sending us out with you guys to investigate 'stuff,' but they won't tell us what 'stuff' is."

"I'm not too sure they know much more than we do. Optimus doesn't seem like the type to withhold important information like that."

Jessie laughed and shot Streetracer a sheepish grin. "I _may_ have been sneaking around trying to catch them talking in private. See what they know. The Decepticons don't seem like they pay a lot of attention to humans, and I thought maybe I could…overhear something."

Streetracer raised an eyebrow. "And if they catch you? From what I hear, they're having a hard enough time trusting Roadkill. Do you _really_ want to risk one of the Decepticons 'accidentally' stepping on you?"

"Well, no, but I thought it was worth a shot…until I got lost." Jessie shrugged. "And here we are."

Streetracer nodded. "Here we are. Look, I can take you back to the Autobot base if you want. I'm sure one of them will know where you're supposed to be." Jessie opened her mouth as though to speak, but Streetracer cut her off. "And I won't tell. It's the least I can do after almost stepping on you."

Jessie smiled and climbed into Streetracer's hand.

"I hear you have been having difficulties adjusting to your new body."

* * *

Harmony shivered as she entered Optimus's quarters. The door slid shut behind her, leaving them in solitude. "Yeah. I…I have." She instinctively tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but without the lungs to hold it, she ended up choking. She couldn't help but feel everything closing in—

"If there is anything you need to make this transition easier for you, I will be happy to help." Optimus came to stand by Harmony and gently rested an enormous hand on her shoulder.

Harmony nodded and stared at the floor. She wasn't sure how much distance Cybertronians usually kept between each other, but she was fairly certain they didn't get _this_ close without reason. She could have sworn she could _feel_ the heat off of him, he was so close…she tried again to breathe and calm herself, but it only made her choke again. The last time she'd been alone in a room with a man…

"I…I have to go. Please. Th-thank you for your help." She gently ducked away from his hand and headed for the door—there was no doorknob. After an instant of terror she remembered where she was, how these things worked. She pushed the button to her left and the door slid open. Optimus made no move to stop her as she hurried down the hall, trying to seem calm.

_Idiot_, she thought to herself. _Optimus would never hurt anyone like that. I was just being paranoid._ Harmony tried again to breathe, but she _couldn't_—shaking, she ran into her quarters and locked the door. She sank to the ground and covered her head, wishing desperately that Cybertronians could cry.


	4. Settling In

**Pretty tame, with a brief reference to interfacing**

* * *

"Again."

Twoface concentrated at Ratchet's command, shifting the outer shell of his body in size and shape to fit his original form. _This is more complicated than it looks_, he thought, _and that's saying something._ The other former humans seemed to have it so easy.

After what seemed like forever, Twoface stopped and inspected himself. He was almost as tall as Ratchet this time, but he felt…slender. Something felt off with his legs too. As he bent down to check his feet, he saw it—stiletto heels.

Miko snorted from her perch on the balcony. "They're even worse than Starscream's!" she exclaimed as Twoface shook his head in disbelief. "N-no offense."

"It's fine—"

"Let's try this one more time," Ratchet said.

With a slight tinge of disappointment, Twoface obliged. He'd kind of _liked_ the stiletto heels; they reminded him of his performances as Princess Candy. He tried to concentrate on his transformation, but it was difficult not to reminisce about his human life.

In spite of the distraction, he felt like he'd done fairly well when he finally settled into position. Ratchet even seemed like he was about to praise him—until he looked down.

"Everything seems in order, except…"

"You still have the heels," Miko finished flatly.

Twoface grinned and turned to face Miko. "I'm keeping them." Ratchet opened his mouth to protest, but Twoface held up a hand. "They're more comfortable for me anyway. Same time tomorrow?"

"Fine, fine," Ratchet replied, waving Twoface away. "At least now I can return to my work."

* * *

"Swear allegiance? To Megatron?" If Roadkill still had a stomach, it would have been in knots.

"To _Lord_ Megatron, and the Decepticon cause," Dreadwing replied. They turned a corner and reached the door to the Decepticons' control room. Breakdown stood waiting.

The past few days had been unforgiving; none of the Decepticons seemed to trust Roadkill, and few showed him any kindness. At first he'd been able to surprise them with simple politeness, but as the novelty of "please" and "thank you" wore off the Decepticons had returned to their usual contemptuous selves—except for Breakdown.

He was still distant, as were all the Decepticons, but at least Breakdown seemed interested in treating the lower ranking Decepticons as _people_ rather than servants or objects. He'd even explained a few of the 'rules' of Decepticon culture. _Don't display too much emotion._ (A little anger now and then was okay, he'd said, but fear and love and sadness were out.) _Don't talk about interfacing._ (Apparently Knockout was as vulgar as Decepticons came.) _Don't talk about your feelings to anyone you don't trust._ _Don't ask 'why.'_

According to Breakdown, the Autobots had shared similar social codes once, but their association with humans had led them to relax a few of them. To Roadkill's dismay, body language was even more important to Cybertronians than it was to humans, and their unwritten rules had more intricacies. At least as a human, Roadkill had been able to study body language, but among Cybertronians, there was no such luxury, and disorders like Asperger's Syndrome were unheard of.

"Don't worry," Breakdown said as Roadkill entered the control room. "They just want to make sure you won't betray anyone."

Roadkill smiled halfheartedly and followed Dreadwing to the center of the room. All the high ranking Decepticon officers but Airachnid were here, Roadkill realized as Breakdown took his place beside Knockout. Megatron stood in the center, staring at Roadkill with those piercing red eyes.

"Kneel," Dreadwing said.

Roadkill had never been one to bow to anything, but a room full of the mightiest Decepticon leaders (and Starscream) was not the place to argue. He knelt before Megatron without hesitation and Dreadwing left to stand beside Skyquake.

Megatron spoke. "Do you, Roadkill, pledge your eternal service to the Decepticon cause and swear to fight and die amongst your brethren, to remain eternally loyal, and to follow all our orders without question, even if it results in your death?"

Roadkill opened his mouth to accept, but something stopped him. He'd always found it nearly impossible to lie, a quality he'd once considered a virtue. But _now?_

"Sorry, Lord Megatron, I—"

Every Decepticon in the room seemed to tense at Roadkill's words. He wanted to wilt under Megatron's intense glare, but he had no choice now. He had to continue.

"P-please don't kill me, Lord Megatron, or any of you, but I…I don't want to lie."

Megatron raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I—I can agree to most of it, just not the 'obey all orders without question' part. I mean, what if I think…someone…is trying to betray and using me for the plan? Or what if…well, I don't know what you'll be asking me to do, but I don't think I could bring myself to do anything that ends up hurting Earth, or wiping out all its native life. I'm still…attached to it. I mean, you guys seem to have a great goal for Cybertron, but…"

Roadkill couldn't go on any longer. A few of the Decepticons were exchanging glances, but Megatron continued to glare directly into Roadkill's eyes—into his _soul_. After a few painful moments, Megatron spoke again.

"At least you are honest, which is more than I can say for some officers…_Starscream_."

The seeker sputtered. "What—Lord Megatron, I—"

"Silence, Starscream." Megatron returned his attention to Roadkill. "But honesty is no substitute for loyalty. I will accept a partial vow…for now."

The Decepticons stared at Roadkill expectantly. "I, Roadkill…pledge my eternal service to the Decepticon cause…and swear to fight and die amongst my…brethren…to remain eternally loyal, and to…obey the Decepticon leadership to the best of my ability."

"Welcome to the Decepticon army. You may rise."

At Megatron's words, the Decepticon officers began filing out of the room. Roadkill stood and made to leave, but Megatron caught him by the arm.

"There may come a time when you must choose between Earth and Cybertron, and Earth is no place for a Decepticon. I will be monitoring your behavior for signs of disloyalty."

"I…yes, Lord Megatron," Roadkill squeaked. After a fierce stare, Megatron released his arm, and Roadkill headed out of the room, uncomfortably aware of Starscream glowering at him from behind Megatron.


	5. Past and Future

**This chapter contains some adult themes and a little coarse language. Trigger warning: brief descriptions of abuse**

* * *

"I don't know what to do." Harmony's voices trembled as she spoke. "He just…keeps talking to me, asking if I'm okay. What am I supposed to say?"

"Well…he _is_ just trying to help. But I know that doesn't make it any easier."

Harmony shook her head. She felt guilty for accosting Twoface right after he'd finally chosen his vehicle modes, but she had to talk to _someone_, and she had a feeling that none of the Autobots would understand. Even Ratchet, who was more than comfortable with questioning Optimus, would probably just send her to him.

"He put his hand on my shoulder the other day. I don't want to be mean, but…I really don't want him to touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me. I can't—" Harmony broke off, trying to resist the urge to breathe.

Twoface seemed about to reach out and touch her, but stopped. "Honey, I don't know what happened to you, but I'm sure—"

"Two years."

"What?"

Harmony hesitated. She'd spoken of this before, in bits and pieces, but she'd never told anyone the whole story. She couldn't possibly reveal it all _now_, to someone she barely knew—a man, no less! But this man was different—safer.

"I wasted two years of my life. At first, he seemed great, but then he got controlling. And then he got mean." The more she spoke, the easier it became. "He started _choking_ me…and he was strong. I could never get away. Sometimes I'd pass out. I think he…did things while I was out sometimes. I'd wake up bite marks."

Harmony crossed her arms over her chest and shuddered. "I didn't ask for help. I didn't try to get way. I just let him…I hate him now." She threw her arms around Twoface and would have cried if she could. "I never want to let that happen to me again. I never want _anyone_ to go through that. I don't want…and I'm scared. Sometimes, at night, I feel like he's still choking me."

Twoface gently returned her embrace. "That's...awful."

"But it's over. I got out almost a year before we came here." Harmony shuddered and let go. "Which is why I hate that I'm still so paranoid about this. The thing with the breathing, the nightmares…I still can't touch a man without that feeling of…terror. I mean, you're different because you're gay, but most of them…even Optimus. It scares me."

Twoface smiled halfheartedly. "Well, these things take time."

Harmony closed her optics momentarily, trying to regain her composure. "So…what happened to you?" she asked. "If you're okay talking about it."

The triple-changer raised an eyebrow. "What happened to _me?_"

"Well, yeah. Something happened to you, right? I mean, everyone's got something."

He smiled. "True…"

* * *

Smokescreen's fist crashed into the wall just inches from Streetracer's face. With lightning reflexes, the new Autobot grabbed Smokescreen's arm and tried to kick him in the stomach—but Smokescreen slammed his other fist into Streetracer's side, causing him to double over in fake pain.

"Another pressure point," Smokescreen explained—but as he turned his back, Streetracer dispensed with the ruse and grabbed him by the right leg and jerked backwards, pulling him down.

"What the—" Smokescreen kicked wildly with his left leg, trying to disrupt Streetracer and make him lose his grip, but Streetracer was on top of the Autobot before he knew it.

Holding Smokescreen down with his legs and left arm, he transformed his right arm into blaster form, placed against Smokescreen's head, and—

"Bang."

"That's a kill shot," Arcee said, an edge of surprise in her tone. Scattered applause echoed throughout the training arena.

"WOO! That was awesome!" Miko began hopping around on Bulkhead's shoulder, reenacting the battle. "He was like 'WHAAM' and then you were like 'SMASSHH,' and he was all—"

"Yeah, I think we get it." Smokescreen stood up stiffly, refusing Streetracer's offered hand.

The other Autobots gathered around to praise Streetracer. "Nice job, newbie. You'd make a pretty good wrecker." Wheeljack smacked Streetracer on the back with a metallic THUNK.

"Huh! That was a dirty trick." Smokescreen stalked over to the far wall and crossed his arms. "He fights like a Decepticon."

"Look, kid, it was nothing personal—"

"'Kid'?! I'm older than your species' civilization!" Smokescreen stomped out of the room.

Arcee rolled her optics. "I'll go calm him down. You did great, Streetracer. Optimus will be glad to hear about it."

Streetracer smiled halfheartedly as the Autobots began to disperse. Smokescreen had never been one of his favorite characters, but he hoped the kid wouldn't hold a grudge. Part of him wondered if Smokescreen could really be as old as he'd said he was—Streetracer hadn't been able to afford the comics later in his human life—but a familiar voice pushed the thought out of his mind.

"You've had your share of experience fighting, haven't you?"

"A bit, yeah," Streetracer said as he bent down, allowing Jessie to climb into his hand.

"I only saw the last half, but you did pretty good. Do you think you could beat Bumblebee?"

Streetracer shook his head as he headed towards the Autobot living quarters. "I think Bumblebee would smack my sorry metal ass back to Generation One."

Jessie smiled. "Listen, I heard them saying they'd be letting some of us humans go back to our dimension soon, tell our families where we are and all that. I bet you could get them to let you come."

"And how would I do that?"

Jessie ran her fingers through her brown curls and smiled with mock vulnerability. "Well, we're squishy little humans who need protecting. And it'd give you a chance to see how you do on Earth in your new form."

"You seem like you've got it figured out. Why don't you ask 'em?" Streetracer asked, grimacing.

"Fowler won't listen to me. He and June are too busy dealing with all us humans to listen to anyone individually. I was thinking maybe we could talk to Bumblebee or something."

Streetracer shrugged. It was better than staying cooped up on base under constant watch from bots like Ultra Magnus.

* * *

"…and by the time I was old enough to support myself, I was pretty used to the double life. It was hard, not being able to go to my parents after that one incident, but I had my other family for that. I decided coming out again wasn't worth being disowned, even if it meant a lot of hiding and sneaking around."

Harmony nodded. "That place, though…I still can't get my mind around it. _Why_ do they—"

"I try not to think about it," Twoface said quickly. Those months he'd spent trying to "pray the gay away"—_more like _beat_ the gay away,_ he thought—were not ones he wanted to relive. "Sometimes I think maybe I should've told them I was still gay, and maybe they'd realize it was inborn, but they're not the type of people to change. It just wasn't worth it."

Harmony put a hand on Twoface's arm. "That must have been really hard…but hopefully you won't have to deal with any more crap here. I don't think the Autobots even understand what gay is."

Twoface smiled. "Yeah, from what I understand they don't have that distinction." A thought stirred from the back of his mind. "Listen, it was great talking to you, but I've got to go…do things."

He stepped gingerly around Harmony and rushed out the door, not waiting for a reply. She felt safe around him because he was gay…so how could he tell her that for the first time in his life, his sexuality was actually beginning to _change?_


	6. Coming To

**WARNING: This chapter depicts interfacing, but not how we normally think of it. This is one of my many theories on Cybertronian interfacing; I'm curious to see what you all think of it. It was inspired by a picture I saw a couple years ago, but I can't find it anymore.**

* * *

"We need to talk about your blaster accuracy."

Roadkill kept his gaze to the floor as the Decepticon warlord entered the room and stood beside him. Megatron gestured towards several of the targets Roadkill had been practicing on—each one had several holes in it, but only one had been hit in the bull's-eye.

"I—I'm sorry, Lord Megatron. I know I can do better. I'll train harder. Please, I—"

"Cease this groveling. You're sounding like Starscream." Megatron regarded Roadkill with obvious distaste, but the expression faded quickly. "You have outperformed over half my Vehicon troops."

Roadkill nearly choked. "I…I did _well?_" It didn't take him long to remember the show—most of the Vehicons shot like storm troopers. Roadkill, by contrast, had grown up shooting, and although it had taken him a while to get used to the gun being a part of his body, he'd adjusted quickly enough.

"Indeed. Ensure that this strength of yours becomes a benefit to the Decepticon cause."

Roadkill nodded quickly. "I will, Lord Megatron."

"Given your performance, we have decided to upgrade your blasters. With me, Roadkill." Megatron led Roadkill out of the room. They traversed several halls and arrived at what appeared to be an ordinary office room. As the door shut behind them, Megatron entered a few codes into the computer. The screen blinked off, and the hum of electronics in the room diminished significantly. Megatron turned to glare at Roadkill.

"This…this isn't the armory," Roadkill said nervously.

"You would do well to keep these unnecessary observations to yourself," Megatron said. Roadkill cringed as the larger Decepticon stepped toward him and raised his arm—

But instead of striking him, Megatron _gently_ placed a hand on the small of his back. Roadkill felt waves of—something. Was that _attraction?_ None of it made sense; Megatron being gentle, him _liking_ it? He couldn't deny that Knockout had a certain charm, but he'd never thought of _Megatron _that way—until now.

"Before you joined us, you mentioned interfacing with yourself." Megatron ran his other hand along Roadkill's right side, sending more waves of desire through his body. "The reason this is impossible will soon become clear."

Megatron's fingers pressed certain pressure points on Roadkill's body, and the former human felt the metal panels on his torso begin to retract, revealing a network of cables and ports. He stared down at himself in shock, and soon Megatron had undergone the same transformation.

Although Megatron was much larger, they both appeared to have the same number of ports. The similarities ended there, though; while Roadkill's insides were shiny and new, Megatron's were scarred from millennia of battle. A few of the ports appeared damaged from particularly heinous injuries, but even through the fog of desire Roadkill knew better than to ask.

The warlord drew him closer until they were almost touching. Roadkill squeaked in surprise and pleasure as cables from his body plugged themselves into Megatron's ports, and Megatron's inserted themselves into his. They seemed to have a life of their own—

Roadkill couldn't think anymore. The bliss overtook him as fluids—and something _else_—exchanged between Megatron's body and his own. Roadkill felt his knees weaken and grabbed Megatron's waist for support, and almost immediately he felt waves of pleasure entering him from his partner. They weren't just sharing fluids, he realized; they were sharing _emotion_.

Roadkill soon felt his own feeling enter into the warlord. Their sparks seemed to be pulsing as one. As Roadkill's knees gave out, his partner held him up, creating waves of pleasure in both of them in an endless feedback loop.

"M-mega…tron…"

That last utterance pushed it over the edge. The feeling swelled—each one's bliss feeding off the other—and they climaxed, together—

As the feeling died down, Roadkill could still feel waves of pleasure pulsing with every sparkbeat, each one lessening in intensity. Megatron stood there for a while, supporting him until he could find the strength to stand on his own; only then did he let go as the cables disengaged.

Roadkill stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. The panels on his chest closed, but he could barely think. He blinked, and realized that Megatron had already transformed back to normal and was reactivating the computer.

"Take the rest of the solar cycle off," Megatron said casually. "You are to report to Knockout in the medbay next cycle for your upgrade."

With that, the warlord left the room as though nothing odd had occurred, leaving Roadkill to stare after him.

* * *

"Their progress is slow, Optimus." Ratchet shook his head and set down his tools. "I know it's a difficult adjustment, but how can these four humans stand against the threat we're facing? At the rate Shockwave's research is progressing, we won't be able to join them in their world for another two months!"

"Then we must not give up on their training," Optimus said. "Streetracer has already proven his skill in combat, and with patience the others will soon follow."

"It is true that they all show potential." The medic brought up some files on the computer screen. "Twoface seems to be mastering his shapeshifting with increasing speed, and use of holographic technology will further augment his capabilities. Harmony's vocal ranges extend beyond even Cybertronian ranges of hearing, and with practice I believe she'll be able to compromise the integrity of certain materials—shatter glass, weaken metal—using only her voice. From what I've heard from the Decepticons, Roadkill has increased sensory perception. So far, Streetracer's shown no sign of special ability aside from a high pain tolerance, but what he lacks in power, he more than makes up for in skill, as we've seen."

"Although they have all had their difficulties adjusting, I worry about Harmony. Her behavior has been…erratic, and my attempts to reach out to her seem to have upset her further."

The distress in Optimus's voice was obvious; as a leader, he'd learned to recognize signs of mental illness long ago and, given time and help from fellow Autobots, had often been successful in helping his allies to become more stable. The few times he'd failed had never ended well.

"She seems to be opening up to Twoface and some of the humans. Perhaps one of them could help," Ratchet said. It wasn't an ideal plan, but he knew his leader well, and offering some solution would at least prevent Optimus from beating himself up over it. "Personally, I worry more about Roadkill and his decision to remain with the Decepticons." Ratchet shook his head. "I don't think he understood what he was agreeing to."

Optimus nodded gravely. "Although Roadkill's situation is worrisome, we must respect his decision. When he is ready to join our ranks, he will make the choice himself."

"What if he is somehow prevented from leaving the Decepticons on his own?" Ratchet asked.

"I do not believe Megatron—"

"Optimus!" Ratchet jabbed his finger at the computer screen. "I…by the Allspark…"

Optimus stared gravely at the screen for several moments before quietly turning away. The only hint of his mood showed in his left hand, its fingers slowly curling into a fist.


	7. Knowledge

**Pretty tame; maybe a bit of swearing and some very vague references to interfacing and abuse**

* * *

"It's weird," Harmony confessed. "It used to be I could only see some of them that way, but now…" She glanced around the small practice room, which was empty save for herself and Twoface. "And my attraction towards humans is…gone. I mean, I wasn't really interested in it after all _that_, you know, but I still noticed. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah. That's…that's interesting." Twoface stared at the wall behind Harmony.

"But is it normal? Like…did yours change too? I hope so, 'cause I _really_ don't want to have to ask Ratchet or Shockwave about this…" Harmony laughed.

"I…oh, God…" Twoface laughed and rubbed his face with his hand. "It's…it's different. It would help if I knew what to _do_ with it, but—"

_-Twoface, please meet me in my office.-_

The triple-changer gave a startled jerk as Optimus's voice reached him through the commlink. _–I'll be right there-_ he responded. "Gotta go," he said, nodding apologetically at Harmony. "Optimus wants to…talk to me."

Twoface hurried out of the room, hoping it was nothing too serious. Optimus hadn't taken an interest with him like he had with Harmony, and the urgency of the call was worrying. He arrived quickly to find Optimus pacing. When he entered, the Autobot leader stopped abruptly.

"Thank you for coming."

Twoface nodded and shifted uneasily. Since when did Optimus _pace_ like that?

"I hear you have become well-acquainted with Harmony."

He gritted his teeth—of _course_ this was about Harmony. "I…yes. Well, sort of. We sometimes train together and talk."

"Then I am sure you are aware of her difficulty adjusting to her new body." Twoface nodded, and Optimus continued. "I believe there is more to her difficulty than meets the eye, but my attempts to reach her have been futile. Is there anything you can tell me that can shed light on this situation?"

Twoface hesitated. "I don't want to violate her trust…" Optimus raised an eyebrow. "But I will say that she's afraid. I can't tell you the details, but something happened to her that makes the whole 'not breathing' thing pretty terrifying. And…" He fell silent.

"And?" Optimus promted.

Twoface searched for the right words. "I…I know you all say you don't have a concept of gender the way we do, but to her, you're a man—a strong man, who could easily hurt her. It's not your fault, and she knows consciously that _you_ would never hurt her, but…Harmony's afraid of men. She can't help it. That's why she's been avoiding you."

Optimus frowned. After a lengthy silence, he spoke. "Thank you for telling me this. I…respect your decision not to violate Harmony's trust." There was an odd edge to his tone.

"Is…is there something else bothering you?"

"Nothing you need to trouble yourself with. Thank you for your concern." Optimus turned his attention to the work on his computer, leaving Twoface to trudge out of the room.

* * *

After Twoface's departure, Harmony decided to resume her training. She'd _almost_ gotten to the point where she could shatter glass—she could see it vibrating as she sang. But she hadn't practiced that as much as she should have; more often, she'd use her two voices to harmonize with herself.

As she practiced, every once in a while she'd notice something else resonating within her chest—a third voice, deeper than the other two. She concentrated on that voice, feeling it vibrate through her like the smooth low hum of her motorcycle engine—

"Hey, not bad."

Harmony froze. Wheeljack stepped through the doorway and came to stand in front of her.

"I…thanks." She tried to smile, but the Wrecker was so much _bigger_ than her, and they were alone.

"Something wrong?"

Harmony realized she'd been backing away, and stopped. "Nothing—I just—" She broke off, trying to hold herself still.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you." Wheeljack held his hands out as if to demonstrate this.

_Of course he'd _say_ that,_ Harmony thought, but intellectually she knew this was the truth. No Autobot—not even Wheeljack—would get away with that kind of behavior. Did Cybertronians even _have_ abuse? Did they have relationships at all, for that matter? As much as she'd enjoyed the fanon about sparklings, it appeared (to her disappointment) that they didn't exist in this universe—and they claimed not to have gender, either. For all she knew, their social structure could be completely foreign.

For once, Harmony realized, she'd managed to avoid a complete panic attack. She hadn't even tried to breathe! Wheeljack was still staring at her with concern, so she did her best to smile and shook her head.

"I know. I guess I sometimes get a little paranoid when I'm alone with people." Before Wheeljack could say another word, Harmony strode out of the room—she may have held on that once, but she knew she couldn't keep that up for long. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of Wheeljack staring after her.

* * *

Roadkill stepped gingerly into the medical bay. Knockout was concentrating intently on a computer screen, so Roadkill remained silent for a while, not wanting to disturb the touchy medic. It didn't take long for him to realize that Knockout was on the internet—_Wait, they get internet in this dimension?_—looking at Transformers fanart.

After a few minutes of watching Knockout admire some particularly flattering renditions of himself, Roadkill finally spoke up.

"I'm…sorry to disturb you…"

"WHAT—how long have you been there?!" Knockout frantically mashed the keypad and the computer screen went blank.

"I…I'm sorry. I was just…Lord Megatron told me to report."

"Right. Our liege told me you'd be coming." The medic regained his composure and gestured for Roadkill to enter. "Let's take a look at those arms, shall we?" Knockout grabbed hold of Roadkill's right arm and gave it a cursory glance. "Yes, I think we might have something in your size…"

Knockout headed over to the computer to check the vaults. "Had a little fun last solar cycle, did we?" the medic asked.

Roadkill froze. _How does he know?_

Knockout seemed to sense Roadkill's surprise. With a sly grin, he pointed to the medical monitor that displayed every Decepticon's sparkbeat. Looking closer, Roadkill noticed that two sparkbeats were perfectly in sync with each other—Megatron's and Starscream's.

Still staring at the computer screen, the medic nodded in answer to Roadkill's unasked question. "Soundwave's not the only one who knows what goes on around here."


End file.
